Dechire
by Mrs. James Norrington
Summary: AU, darkfic [First War]. After murdering James and Harry Potter, Voldemort gives Lily to his most loyal servant, Severus Snape. SnapeLily. Rated for language and sexual content. Rating may go up.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Just my plot bunnies.

**A/N:** Chapter One is better than this prologue... Please give the story a chance! Another strange thing is that I wrote this backwards (I wrote the last paragraph, the second-to-last, etc. until I got to the first.) It's particularly tricky to do this with dialogue... Trust me.

* * *

**Prologue:**

"James Potter and his son are dead."

Severus Snape felt the bottom drop from his stomach; he had been secretly hoping that the Dark Lord would fail. But the Dark Lord never failed… Ever since Voldemort had announced that he had found the Potters' Secret Keeper, no less than _Peter Pettigrew_, Snape had known that Voldemort would finish what he had begun.

"You have done well, Severus. Do you remember your request that I spare the girl?"

"Y-yes, My Lord."

"The silly child thought that she could protect her son on her own, but she was no threat to me, and I decided to let her live. I thought it would be a shame to let the ministry find her…" He paused. "I trust you will take care of her?"

With a movement of his wand, a slim figure drifted from the shadows, floating just inches above the ebony carpet, apparently asleep.

"She is unharmed?" He could not keep the anxiousness from his voice. She looked so pale…

"There is… no lasting damage," Voldemort responded. "Surely you are not going soft, Severus?" His quiet tone was suddenly dangerous.

"Never, My Lord," he responded, swallowing a burning feeling in his throat. "But it would be such a shame if she were… _unfit_." He hoped that Voldemort did not notice the way he spat out the last word, as if it were poison. _She's alive,_ he told himself,_ She's alive, and nothing else matters… "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child?"_ Dumbledore's voice echoed, unbidden, in his mind. He pushed it away.

The Dark Lord seemed to have noticed nothing. He nodded curtly, sending the young woman into Snape's arms with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Your humble servant's gratitude is great, My Lord," Severus muttered, bowing low.

"Lord Voldemort rewards the faithful, Severus. She is a pretty thing…" There was no emotion in his voice; it was cold, factual, as if he was commenting about something other than a human being.

Snape backed out of the room still carrying Lily's limp form. He could have levitated her, of course, but she seemed to weigh hardly anything. He noticed that her cheeks were slightly hollow, perhaps the months of fear and hiding had taken their toll…

The halls of this mansion were narrow and dim, like most of the old Pureblood family houses that had been passed through generations. Finding a place to stay was never a problem for the Dark Lord, there were many Pureblood families that were honored to accommodate Voldemort and his followers… or were too frightened to refuse…

He slipped silently into the room he had been granted. It was dark and tiny, almost closet-like, but much better than his room as a child. Laying the unconscious girl on the bed, he bent over her, wondering what Voldemort had meant by _"No lasting damage."_

"_Episkey_," he whispered tapping at a cut on her hand and a bruise above her eye, watching as the injuries disappeared.

He sat down in a chair by the bed, wrestling with a sudden desire to kiss her, to run his fingers through that dark red hair… Now there was nothing to do but wait… although he was rather sure she wouldn't be happy to see him.


	2. Chapter I

**Disclaimer:** JKR owns it all. I'm too lazy to type a witty disclaimer...

**A/N:** The beginning is weak, but I started with paragraph four when I wrote this and went from there. Sorry for the mistranslation: the title is French for "Ripped Apart." Thanks to Dudly for the edit. I hate my French Dictionary (it's even worse than I am), but I decided to keep the title.

* * *

**Chapter I:**

Lily awoke confused. _Where am I?_ The room was dark in decoration, but the bed she was lying on seemed reasonably comfortable… It took her a while to realize what was odd about the room, there were no windows. _Like a tomb_… It was illuminated by three slender candles, floating in the air, and she caught sight of her pale face in a mirror opposite the bed.

Then, everything came back… _James! Harry!_ She suddenly caught sight of another person in the mirror… someone who, at first glance, seemed to be part of the shadows. Severus Snape. She turned, breathing quickly, feeling for her wand and remembering that she had lost it.

Snape seemed not to notice her panic. He was looking at her with something like concern in his dark eyes. He leaned a little closer to her, his eyes probing her, and she wasn't sure for what.

Mustering as much strength as she could, she drew back her hand and attempted to strike him as hard as possible. He seemed to have been expecting this; he easily caught her left hand by the wrist, but he wasn't quick enough to catch the right.

Lily's hand caught him hard in the face; she sprang up, but again, he was too swift for her. An arm encircled her waist and forced her back into a sitting position on the bed. Severus Snape had never been particularly strong, but he seemed to have an unnatural strength tonight. Perhaps it was simply that he was more than a match for the injured, slightly lightheaded young witch. Noticing that he still gripped her left arm, she wrenched it away, surprised when he didn't resist the motion.

His hand was on his wand, but he made no move to punish her, he just slowly raised a hand to the angry red mark across his face and watched her with a pensive silence that frightened her. She half wished that he would scream a curse at her or call her a filthy mudblood, anything to break the cold stillness that had settled over them like a shroud.

* * *

Even as a captive, she was defiant; he could see her struggling to mask the fear and misery she felt. Even as a prisoner, uncertain whether these were her last moments, she took his breath away. He wanted to fall at her feet, to tell her that she was free, that she need never see Lord Voldemort again, to tell her how terribly, terribly sorry he was… 

He tensed as he heard a slight noise in the hall. "_Muffliato_," he whispered. If any Death Eater heard what he was about to say, he knew it would mean death for both him and Lily. Lily's eyes flicked from his impassive face to his wand suspiciously, almost fearfully. Instead of replacing the wand in his pocket, he laid it down on the bedside table, taking a full step away from it and offering her his now empty hand.

"You know I would never hurt you," he said very softly, so softly that he couldn't have said whether or not she had heard.

She ignored the outstretched hand, and her eyes darted toward the abandoned wand.

"You would be dead long before you reached the bottom floor," he said coolly, mater-of-factly, almost as though he was commenting on the weather. "And then, I wouldn't be able to live with myself…"

* * *

Rage suddenly flared up inside her, she wanted to strike out at him again, harder this time, but fury held her immobile. "Why would you care? Why should you give a damn if there's one less _mudblood_ in the world?" 

His face was slightly flushed, and she knew it had nothing to do with the slap-mark, but she was beyond caring. She let out a scream that was half derisive laughter, half agony. "I suppose it would ruin things for you, wouldn't it? But don't I get a say? What if I don't want to live, any more? WHAT IF I WOULD RATHER JOIN MY HUSBAND AND MY CHILD THAN BE YOUR WHORE?"

* * *

He reeled. The loathing in her eyes as she screamed those words hurt a thousand times worse than being tortured by Lord Voldemort, and Snape wished harder than ever that he had let himself be tortured rather than admit he had ever heard of a certain prophesy. 

Lily collapsed on the bed, sobbing, and he took her in his arms, ignoring her struggles and the stinging pain as her finger nails raked his face.

"James Potter…" he murmured, unsure of how to continue.

"W-was… a b-better man than-than… you'll ever be!" she spat, still trying to wrench herself away.

"Lily, Lily," he whispered miserably, "I don't deny it, but I never wanted him dead. I never wanted anyone dead…"

The words caught her off guard, and she stopped to stare at him, her beautiful green eyes wide.

"I went to Dumbledore," he whispered, entreating her to listen. "I told him I would become his spy… I told him I would do anything if he would just keep you… all of you… safe!" He shook her slightly. He wanted her more than anything to understand, if she couldn't forgive him, he didn't want her to blame him. He surely deserved that much, at least!

"How… how do I know you're not lying?" She did not sound angry anymore, just cautious. He was suddenly aware how close she was; the fragrance of her hair had lingered, just barely, and it intoxicated him.

He swallowed and let go of her, realizing how tightly he had been holding her… "Who else would have known the Dark Lord's plans? One of Dumbledore's Order? Lupin? Black? Cowardly little Pettigrew? No, Dumbledore's side knows nothing,_ nothing_! Which is, of course, why they needed a spy…"

She said nothing, but he knew, with a sudden tremulous happiness, that she believed him. She slumped, looking weary and vulnerable. "Harry… my baby… I tried to save him… I told… He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named… to kill me instead…"

He sat down by her, gently stroking her dark red hair, praying that she would never know who, exactly, had sent the Dark Lord after the child.

She seemed to take strength from him; she reached out and gripped his fingers tightly, continuing. "I told him I would never move… but he… he tortured me… the Cruciatus curse… and… and I wasn't fast enough…"

Severus's stomach contracted. The Dark Lord had tortured her? _"No lasting damage…" _He could easily imagine her screams, her slender figure convulsing… A cold disgust filled him, making him even more sure that he would never betray Albus Dumbledore.

"You should rest," he mumbled, pressing her gently onto the bed.

"And you?" Her voice was hoarse from crying.

"I need to think." He settled himself into the same chair he had been in when she woke. "Soon, you'll be free," he promised, making a motion as if to caress her cheek, but drawing back.

"I want you to live, Lily. You mustn't let go. I'm sure your… husband would have wanted you to live."

She nodded faintly and closed her eyes. Severus Snape watched her as her breathing became deep and even, but he knew that he would not sleep that night.

* * *

**A/N:** Please tell me what you thought. It's possible that I have put more work into this than any other fic, and I deeply appreciate reviews, even if you are going to tell me that you don't like it. No flames, though. I don't get anything out of flames, so I'll just go on posting like I'm posting without ever knowing what you disliked about my fic! And no, "ur fick sux nd is shitt!" is not a polite answer! 


	3. Chapter II

**Disclaimer:** .RETTOP YRRAH NWO T'NOD I

**A/N: **What you see below is the product of much effort, little sleep, and absolutely no food. Actually, I rather like it. XD The first part is my original prologue; I figured it would be put to better use here. It looks familiar, I know, but bear with me and you'll hit the... lovely... AU twist! The last line is one of my better last lines, I would like feedback on it in particular, odd as that sounds.

**Thank-you:** To all my wonderful reviewers. You guys rock Sevvy's socks! **Fantine Javert, StoogegirlSilva, Aislinn, OhYeah100, ILoveToChin25, Jecir, Sevelily, Miss3y, bakasake, Dylan S. Thompson, SailorHectate, **and** Stargirl!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter II**

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

"I love you," she whispered, knowing full well that it would be the last time she saw him alive.

"I know." His expression softened for a moment. "Go!" The touch of his hand dispelled her numbness; she made a dash for Harry's room, stumbling slightly as the front door exploded off its hinges. Half of her wanted to go back and stand with James, to face death beside him, but she knew it would be useless to her son. She cradled the boy against her chest; there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide… She dashed up the stairs, diving through the first open door, Harry's room…

Voldemort's curse shook the house, and she stumbled again. She heard herself scream for James, knowing there would be no answer. Silent tears ran down her face, but she paused only to set Harry in his crib before slamming every box and piece of furniture she could find against the door. Where was her wand? She must have dropped when she tripped; she had been too intent on keeping hold of Harry…

She gathered the small boy in her arms again. Her heart was thumping rapidly in her chest; it was too quiet, too still, Lord Voldemort was taking his time knowing that they were trapped. Her eyes flicked to the window, but it was too small, and no one would have been able to hear her scream for help because of the charm…

She was sure Voldemort wouldn't have killed Pettigrew, he would have enough sense to keep her and James from becoming Secret Keepers in turn, able to shout their location to all within earshot in a desperate bid for survival… She rocked Harry gently. He looked so much like James, he had no idea that his father was lying dead below.

For a split second, she remembered what Dumbledore had told them so long ago. She had been shocked, disbelieving.

"_Harry? But he's just a child? He's only a baby, for goodness sake…" She trailed off, feeling helpless, and James put a comforting arm around her shoulders._

"_Lord Voldemort has no misgivings about killing a child if he thinks that child is a threat," Dumbledore said, gently but sternly. "I have heard from a reliable source that he intends to go to any lengths to destroy Harry Potter…"_

There was no splintering crash as there had been when Voldemort destroyed their front door. The door of Harry's room simply swung open, eerily, and the boxes and pieces of furniture she had worked so hard to pile there spun away silently, as if in a grotesque ballet. Her heart quickened at the sight of that pale, snakelike face; she set her child back in the crib and stepped in front of him.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she begged, knowing that it would make no difference.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now." His tone was cold, and his lip curled into a contemptuous smile when he saw that she had no wand. There was only her body between him and the child.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"

"Your babbling tires me, you stupid child." His wand was pointed at her chest, she thought for a moment that he would kill her, but instead, he shouted, "_Crucio!_"

Agony shot through her, the curse knocked her to the floor, it was as though every one of her nerves was being sliced open with a hot knife… She became aware that she was screaming as she had never screamed before and that Voldemort was laughing quietly. He watched her shudder on the floor with an air of faint amusement. Moving languidly, he came to kneel beside her, raising her face with one of his cold hands. Long white fingers brushed her cheek, almost caressingly.

The fingers lingered on her face for a split second, then moved to run down her neck. Revulsion filled her. She wanted to shrink away, but she felt weak and slightly dizzy, every inch of her body aching.

One finger twisted a strand of her hair, moving it away. Voldemort's face was millimeters from her own, and his lips grazed her ear.

"It would be such a waste to kill you. One of my followers has been so _longing_ to see you again… I'm sure you remember Severus Snape?"

"Go to Hell," she snarled, still out of breath.

A hand gripped her chin again, forcing her to look once more into those terrible scarlet eyes. "You need to learn manners, my dear," he said softly.

And then everything was a blur… Harry was crying in his crib… Voldemort threw Lily away from him… her head struck the wall… his wand was raised, but this time, it wasn't pointed at her…

Lily head was swimming from the force of impact against the wall. Her one thought was to get to Harry… to protect him… raising herself, she dove forward… She wasn't quick enough.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

The child fell limp, emitting one final shriek… Lily's outstretched hand caught something sharp… It sliced through her palm… The last thing she remembered was Voldemort standing above her, his horrible laugh ringing in her ears.

* * *

She awoke, panting, her eyes adjusting to the darkness after that flash of green light… nothing but darkness… 

The memories were so clear in her mind: James's hazel eyes as he said goodbye, the warmth of little Harry against her breast, the stark cold of Lord Voldemort's fingers stroking her skin.

She rose from the bed; Severus Snape was nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, she padded over to the door, wondering if he had left it unlocked. She reached out a hand to touch the knob, but something stopped her.

"_Soon, you'll be free…"_

What was it about him that made her trust him, especially after being betrayed by one of her husband's closest friends?

Perhaps it was because of the pain in his voice when he said he would never hurt her, and the pleading in his eyes. No one was that good of an actor, not even a man who had to be fooling either Voldemort or Dumbledore. Maybe it was simply because she needed someone to trust.

With those thoughts she returned to the bed without bothering to see if the door was locked. She suddenly realized how tired she was. It felt as if she had been running rather than sleeping. She was unable to shake the images of Harry and James from her mind, but finally succeeded in crying herself back to sleep.

* * *

It was one o'clock in the morning on November first, 1981. Snape slipped back in the door, relived that Lily was still asleep. She was shivering and seemed to be crying softly. He moved to the bed and watched her silently, sitting down gingerly and cradling her slender figure as though he was afraid to break her. 

She stirred slightly, her body nestling against his, her hair just beneath his chin.

"James…" she murmured.

"Shh…" he whispered back, a lump growing in his throat. If this was the only way he would ever hold her, so be it.

Let him be James Potter for just one night.

* * *

**A/N:** So where **was** Sev? What will happen to Lily? Tune in next time on "Inventions of Mrs. James Norrington's Twisted Mind"! Don't forget to review! My calculations say that less than five percent of the people who have read this have reviewed! Depressed writers don't do good fics, people. 


End file.
